


Her, and her alone

by Alealea



Category: Kushiel's Legacy - Jacqueline Carey
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-24 17:01:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21621388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alealea/pseuds/Alealea
Summary: "The Name of God ignited in my skull, blazing under the touch of her lips, her tongue. I saw our paths crossing and recrossing, the myriad paths of might-have-been. All the scenarios that might have happened, had events not fallen out as they did. And in each and every one, our fates were intertwined."I decided to explore a might-have-been where Phedre wasn't reared in the cold and delicate mercies of the Night Court.Risking everything to protect her little brother, a very young Phèdre leaves the life she has always known to reach the City of Elua...This fanfiction is quite an ambitious project, and still ongoing, but here is the beginning...
Relationships: Phèdre nó Delaunay/Melisande Shahrizai
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	1. Homecoming

The name I now bear, I earned by hard work and by following Blessed Elua precept. 

If it has given me cause grief more than once, it was no more that I could bear. 

Tis not the name I was born with but I have long forsaken my father's name. 

My mother had been a Servant Of Namaah, a Jasmine adept of the Night Court and twas more a cause of grief than pride. Offen, it generated dissension in our travel, eliciting unwanted attention from merchants and guards alike. 

She was a distant mother, so entranced by her amorous husband that she scarcely paid attention to us. She had tried to sell me once, but had been refused and humiliated in the bargain for I was flawed goods, tainted by a mote of red in my dark left eye. 

Whatever gift she could have passed on, she took to the grave long before I was of an age to learn it. She was struck by an infection and our meager founds didn't permit us to seek for a healer and she passed away, gasping and choking on a bed infested with lices. 

We had been logging in a Caerdicci city near the border then, waiting for a caravan to took us through the Skaldi pass, not the d'Angeline one. My father had heard of forrays in an obscure valley where enterprising men could make fortunes. I, though but nine years old, had been pretty dubious. I was used to the lack of success my parents had in their ventures. 

But knowing my worth since I had been four years old, I worked hard to make up for it.

And so I had taken upon myself to take care of my little brother, Camille, who was uncommonly precocious and way too serious. I helped loading and unloading. 

I was also often taxed by my father to translate for him, for it seems I had a gift for learning foreign languages. 

I knew how to read letters and numbers, and I also knew how to read a face. I had the uncanny gift to understand people nature and though I never told my father, I knew it and used it when I spoke in his name. Still there wasn't much I could do to counter his bad judgement and here we were when he lost our mother, his everything, and tried to bury himself in cheap alcohol. 

I knew also, when the bitterness turned the tide of his soul, and he looked at us anew, wondering how much we would be worth on the black market, for even flawed, I was still d’Angeline and my brother was a carbon copy of our mother, and selling the two of us would mean enough money that he could drown himself in a pool of wine. 

I wouldn't have dared, alone, to do what I did. But there was Camille, my brother, my ward, my blood. It took me two weeks, to find a way and prepare for it, and then one night, while our father was lying on the only couch, passed out, I took the bags I had readied and Camille so serious and sweet by the hand, and we left. 

I had already arranged trading my services as interpreter and secretary to a merchant whose wife it was usually the job, who was too advanced in her pregnancy to come. She had taken one look at me, undisturbed by the mote in my eye, and quickly ascertained my talents. Camille had proposed to cook in her stayed and with a few quick gestures, had made a simple and healthy meal for her. It was his duty, as we had long ascertain that I was useless with a firepot.

Smiling at us, especially at Camille, she had nodded at her husband and a contract had been made. We would serve for the three months it would took us to reach the City of Elua, I would translate and keep counts, and help Camille who would cook for the eight of us, six adults and two children. It was a tiny caravan but it would travel swiftly and had frequent stop through small villages and trade spices and foreign goods to d'Angeline villagers for honey, wine and Joie, a Camaeline strong spirit . We were due to arrive just a few weeks before the Longest Night and the renewed cargo would have great value he told me.

Those months taught me what could have been had my father ambition been less than his greed of miraculous gain. I learned how to make a stand and how to present wares, how to vary the composition and how to adapt it to a specific market. I learned also poetry for Arturo our employer was an  _ aficionado  _ and spend the long hours of travel declaiming old texts. He taught me then the sad story of my ill-luckname. 

And some nights, he made us all laugh when reading aloud his own attempt, most of them dedicated to his wife and soon to be born child, and which were quite dreary. 

Twas a happy moment for Camille and I, but as we approached the City and were pondering at our different prospects, for making distance between us and our father had been foremost in our plans and coming to Terre d'Ange the safest choice for two pure-blooded d'Angeline children, we realised we had not thought past those two initial steps. 

“We could try our grandfather,” suggested Camille and we scrunched our faces at the prospect, remembering the last tempestuous meeting, where we hadn't even be allowed to come inside. Only Father had been in and got out pretty quickly, his fair skin turned purple with fury. 

“Might be better to find apprenticeship,” I said. “You are a fair hand at cooking.” He nodded happy at the prospect and I bit my lip, knowing it would be hard to come by, without letters of introduction, characters references and relatives.

“But you Phedre,” he said tentatively, I shook my head, annoyed and bored at the prospect. Though there were hard learned and polished, I didn't relish those skills I had. Camille, who knew me better than anyone, knew how restless I was, easily bored and sometimes reckless. He knew also, how much I relish pain and was worried that one day, I would took it too far and hurt myself too badly. I shook my head again and he let it go. He was the compass that centered me. T'was the unspoken truce between us.

Arturo surprised us then, by proposing us to stay with him. He smiled at the twin shocked expression on our faces and said. “You are both good souls,” he stated, “and good workers,” he slap his belly lightly and smacked his lips, winking at Camille. “You would be welcome into our family.” We looked at him, bewildered, and I burst into tears. Never before had anyone told us that and it was a balm on the scars we weren't aware we had in the depths of our hearts. We thanked him and we thought about it. But we had seen Terre d'Ange. And the truth was in our blood. We were home. We thanked him again and refused, promising that next year, we would search for him and tell him of our doings. He sighed then, a bit of unease and worry in his eyes, and let us go with small purses that was thrice the amount we had agreed on. We protested but he insisted, pushing the purses into our hands and counselling us to put them at different places in our clothes to avoid pickpockets or other griefs.

It was enough, thank his heart, to buy us lodging and food til the end of winter in the cheapest quarter of the City, in Night's Doorstep , nor far from the place where our mother had been born and raised. We were there then, when Prince Baudoin made all the tongues wraggled by stealing the Sun Prince role. I didn’t really care at the moment, not knowing what it implied. It was there we met Hyacinthe, our guide and friend, who taught us the City and the way to make our small coins last and how to add more but tis a story for another time because something happened the next summer that changed our destinies forever.


	2. Change of Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hyacinthe has an idea that promise profit and it leads to a meeting that will unhinge Phèdre as nothing has ever done in her young life

Life in the blessed City was no holidays. 

Camille was still too young to be apprenticed and I was too often ill received because of my eye. It was hard to get past the everyday work to look for a way out when Hyas asked me if I could climb. 

I laughed at that, not only knowing how but being quite good at it, having developed a taste for it very young. I revealed in the thrill of danger while dangling from a high perch. He took me to another part of the City. He had taken care to dress us in cleaner clothes and showed me the walls and properties lined with trees heavy with fruits. 

He pointed at the fruits. “Could be worth a lot,especially if Camille can magicked them,” he told me. “And they,” he pointed at the opulent doorway, “do not collect it. Too caught up in their affairs. Such a waste, “ he added, a glint in his eye.” Do you reckon you could ?”. 

I looked carefully, at the walls and trees, finding more than enough anchors where I could put my hands and feet. I nodded and for many weeks it worked well. I would go collect what I could in a satchel, Camille would look, taste, think and sometimes bake, sometime not. Hyas sold fruits and pastries alike on the market with my help. I changed properties from day to day and it rounded up our purse quite nicely. 

I always took from the highest branches where no one would notice my picking. I was perched in such a place when I heard someone sitting at the base of the tree. I froze then, my heart beating so hard I was sure someone would hear it and shoot at me. But it didn't. And then the most melodious voice I've ever heard rose to my ears, reciting a text that could only be poetry. It was too low for me to understand the words but by the intonations I could guess it was Caerdicii. 

Curious, I bend over, forgetting my footing, and the slender branch cracked under my feet. I tried desperately to find reach but it was to no avail and I plummeted to the earth with an avalanche of fruits and broken bits. 

I heard a muffled “ What the h…”, then I crumpled on the ground. I felt something snap in my left wrist and pain as I've never known blossomed, a red haze filling my vision. A moan escaped my lips even as fear made me curled up. 

“You are not a very good thief,” a dry voice remarked. Despite the pain and the blinding vision, I felt a spark of indignation. Stung, I answered in a mumble “I'm not a thief ! “.

It was a bit muffled as I dared not raise my eyes and I could only see a pair of feet clad in beautiful slippers, and a length of beautiful fabric, the cost of I could only guess and which made me cringe even more. 

There was something colder in the air at my words and I added a belated “M'lady. “

“Really ? So what would you call it, “ the voice asked, shoving a bruised peach with her foot toward me. “Poaching ?”

“Want not waste not, “I retorted. “The fruits I take are only feeding the birdies and there is more than enough to share. They are some already rotting up there. “

“Hmm,“ she mused “I guess you're right with that, my father has no interest in this property inside the City walls and it seems the caretaker has been loosy.” 

I heard her fingers tap against hard paper, a book I guess. And I had the sudden feeling the caretaker would be taken cared of. “Oh ,”I whispered. 

She snorted. “So what's the scheme? Harvesting and selling on the market ?” .

She took one peach that had landed unscathed and I heard her bit into it. She hmmed and murmured, “They are not bad though a bit past their prime. Still can't be worth that much”. 

I bit back my automatic reply, that my little brother could make everything and anything taste good. But she must have seen something in my posture for she continued. 

“Ah I can guess they are others involved. Still you are pretty courageous or stupid to risk the wrath of Kushiel's Scions “

I made myself as little as I could, and gasped “Kushiel's Sc… Sharizhai!”. 

We who lived in Night Doorstep, knew about the Sharizhai. It wasn’t wise to cross them. 

I trembled and she laughed. And it was a wonderful sound, rich and lustrous. 

“You didn't know. So there is honor among thieves and loyalty if no forethought and no talent.” 

Once again indignant I sputtered, eyes still locked on her feet. “I'm not a  _ thief _ ! And I’m not bad at what I do! I'm a great climber ! tis just tis just you read so beautifully but I was too high up and couldn't make the words and I just wanted to know what it said . “ 

I sniffed then and felt humiliated as hot tears poured out of my eyes and snot ran down my nose. 

“You wanted to hear the poetry,” she repeated incredulous. 

I nodded, still sniffling. She sighed. “You wouldn't have understood little one. It's in Caerdicii.”

Miffed, I answered in that language, “I do, I would have, m'lady. “

“A thief that speaks Caerdicii and likes poetry, “ she mused. “Let us see then what kind of thief you are”, she added, and cupped my face to peer at me. 

There had been nothing but a hint of curiosity in her voice at that time. 

Tis but an instant, a flick of time to change the tile of Fate 

Words failed me then and failed me now. I do not have the words to describe her. 

We d’Angeline reveal beauty in all its forms and here before me stood surely one of the most precious jewel or our time.  _ To describe her is, as the poets say, to paint a nightingale's song; it is a thing which cannot be done _ .  _ If I say her skin was like alabaster, her hair a black so true it gleamed blue where the light touched it and her eyes a sapphire that gemstones might envy, I speak only the truth; but she was a D'Angeline, and this only hints at the beginning of beauty. _

And she was touching me, her slender fingers sliding on my skin, and I felt something …. something I knew no name to express and I shivered uncontrollably, the pain in my wrist forgotten, as fear and longing rode my body at the press of those fingers, wanting… wanting...wanting her to do something unnamed to me. She gasped as she saw the speck of red in my left eye. “Oh,” she said. ”Who are you ?” and there was genuine wonder in her voice. 

She let go of my face then and took a step away and I sagged back, half-relieved, half-despairing at the loss of contact. 

“What's your name ?” she asked and I dared not lie. “Phedre,” I answered. “Phedre …” she let my name stretch. “Just Phedre. “ 

“I am Melisande,” she replied. “Let me see your arm ,”she ordered

She didn't touched me a second time but looked at it carefully and tssked at the awkward angle it was bend. “It would have to be immobilized. You will need a physician.” Tears pooled again in my eyes as I realised that I just lost one of my most precious tool. 

A serious expression on her face, she told me. “You broke an unspoken faith. Had you asked for the fruits, they would have been given freely. In your misdeed, you broke a simple rule of hospitality and hurt the tree in the process. And so Kushiel, whose judgement is always stern but fair, broke your wrist. The tree will heal and so would you , little one. In the meantime, I who bear also part of responsibility as my father's daughter, will take care of you in his stead.“

I looked at her wondering what she meant and she saw the confusion on my face. 

“Would you have tried the tree if it was cultivated ?” I shook a vehement no with my head. In fact, I had taken to avoid such trees in my daily collect. 

“Well then, we tempted you by negligence. Now, you were far more punished than your crime deserve and I must reestablish balance. So til your hand is healed, I will assure your subsistence which is a healer, a bath, “she emphasized and I shot her a dark look, for surely, I didn't smell that bad ! That made her laugh. “And food,” she finished 

Twas too great to be true and doubt must have shown on my face as she added, “On Kushiel’s Honour, I swear”. 

I shivered in misery thinking about my brother. I looked at her, that woman that made my inner soul tremble and felt deep cunning, vivid intellect and a keen interest, that bewildered me. 

I don't know why, maybe it was foolishness, maybe twas fate, but I placed my trust in her hands and gave her the key to my heart. “I too have a duty,” I said soberly. 

She looked at me carefully and answered. “Your sibling too. On Kushiel honour,” she repeated. 

And so it was that before I got healing, bathing and food, I spoke to Hyas who had kept vigil, mortified behind the wall and send him to bring back Camille. Confused at first, he agreed when I was adamant I would be okay if only he could move his damned legs to get my little brother ! Twas the swearing that had done the trick and I could feel the amusement that emmaned of the mysterious woman behind me. 

The break was clean and once set, would heal in eight to twelve weeks explained the physician, a stern man who asked no question but bowed respectfully to Melisande. “It will hurt,” he warned me as he began setting the bones.

I lowered my eyes, hiding the flush on my cheek as pain turned to pleasure. Behind me I could feel Melisande amusement. She knows, I thought. How does she knows, I wondered, that pain turns my knees into water? 

Camille was ushered into the room after the man left. He ignored Melisande and rushed toward me “Phedre,” he cried “are you okay ?”. Then he saw the sling “oh no !” he exclaimed. “tis okay,” I swear. “Doesn't hurt that much now tis just,” I shrugged ruefully. “It seems I got us a debt of honour instead,” I said and turn to Melisande. “My lady, this is my brother Camille. Camille tis the lady Melisande Sharizhai who is apparently honour-bound to take care us til my arm is working. “

He looked at her in awe and said “m'lady” bobbing his head twice. 

She smiled her cool smile. “I will let you two refresh yourself then maybe you will join me for diner.” 

We look at her uncertain and she added “You two are too serious and a half. I'm of a mind to know you better as it seems you are to be my wards for two month. Bath,” she ordered. “Get dressed. then we will talk.” And so we did. 

We were scrubbed to an inch of our skin by a gray headed matron who didn't stopped talking. She marveled at Camille features who had in truth, inherited our mother looks, from the colouring of his hair to the form of his lashes, except for the eye, a light blue that contrasted nicely with the honey of his skin. She tutted at the state of our hair, hands and feet. After the scrubbing, she cut and trim til she dimmed us presentable to the Lady. We donned new clothes that had been provided. 

We dined in a small room where servants ushered plates after plates, eyes downcast and unobtrusive and no one asked question, either at our presence or condition. 

We munched, awed by the delicacies presented to us. Camille was in pure bliss taking a bite of everything. I seemed to have a fondness for a plate of vegetables napped with a red spicy creamy sauce. It burst upon my tongue, ignited a heat from my mouth to the center of my body. The pleasure of food made us less wary and Camille lost his usual reserve and began pointing at plates and asking questions. “What is this ?,” he pointed at a greenery sprayed on cold fish. “Aneth,” answered the lady indulging him. “Oh we heard of it, didn't we Phedre ?,” he marvelled and took a second bite. And so on. 

“How old are you,” she asked when we had eaten our fill which wasn't that much, so unused were we to that much bounty. 

“Almost seven,” Camille said proudly. “And you ?” Melisande coughed, unused to such liberties. 

I gave him an elbow 

“Tis not polite,” I chidded him

“But she asked first,” he retorted

“But she's a Lady,” I insisted, cheeks red with embarrassment 

“It doesn't matter,” Melisande intervene, cutting of our sibling spat with indulgence. “I'm almost twenty,” she told my brother and turned her gaze to me “and you ?”

“Eleven, m'lady.”

“Eleven,” she mused. “And you spoke Caerdicci,” she told me in that language. ”We both do,” piped Camille. “But Phedre speaks dozens more,” he added. 

I flushed again 

“Really,” she inquired, lifting an elbow. 

“No, not that much. I can speak Caerdicci, Aragonian, Hellene, Akkadian and Skaldi, my lady. But I know some of other tongue too”. 

“Ah,” her eyes glinted, “so you come from a merchant upbringing. But not only, I can guess. You”, she said to Camille, “could be fostered in at least three houses of the Night Court”, He blush with happiness at the compliment 

“I could ? Really ? Ma was from there, but she 'loped from it with Da and they had Phedre first and the court didn't want her cause of her eye. “

“Ah,” I saw Melisande expression shifting as she deciphered his meaning. “Yes, they would have”, and I felt the shame burn my cheeks remembering that cold woman’s voice."  _ The child is unfit to serve the Thirteen. We will not have it said that Cereus House gives succor to a whore's unwanted get." _

The memory was cut by Melisande voice. “They were absolutely wrong of course. You, my dear,” she told me then, her voice naming my new fate, “are a jewel without compare, as unique as the moon in the sky among the stars.”

She took a breath "'Mighty Kushiel, of rod and weal/Late of the brazen portals/With blood-tipp'd dart a wound unhealed/Pricks the eyen of chosen mortals.'” She paused and explained. 

“You, Phedre, are Kushiel’s Dart. An  _ anguissette,  _ touched by the God Kushiel, my ancestor, who reached into your mother’s womb and pricked your eye, before you were even born. “

“And fate it seems,” she touched my cheek letting her thumb caress the soft skin under my left eye, ”has chosen to deliver you to me, sprawling at my feet.”

She smiled again that cool smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief and unknown mysteries and I trembled. 


	3. The three-months wards

Melisande.   
In the three months that followed, we had so much, we felt so much, we learned so much.  
Unused to idleness, we search for things to do. We did collect the garden and Camille did his usual magic. The cook was impress by his precocity and I think Camille would burst of pride when our lady tasted one pastry and even finished it. Camille was adopted on the spot by the cook, who answered agreeably to his flow of questions.   
I was hampered by my arm but I was curious. I mapped the entire property except for the Lady’s suite. I learned some of the people I had taken for hired servants, where related to her in someway, protected by the Lady from an unfair feud started by my Lady's father. That that last was sick and it was rumoured he would not pass the winter. I realized there was no love lost between them. Her lady mother had passed away a long time ago. It seemed to me we had a fair share of similarities in our background. But there was a lot of differences too. 

Melisande was an only child. Well, the only one he had gotten by marriage and his heir. She had been twice married and was twice widowed and already richer than anyone should be. She would be even richer when the old one croaked I guess. I wondered what anyone would do with so much ?  
She wasn't lonely, that was sure. She had a gaggle of cousins and friends and other people I'm not sure how there were supposed to be related and she hold court among them. For sure, she was the center of their attention. They basked in her attention as dogs under the sun.   
Camille told me to stop being jealous. I went mad and left our small bedroom in a fury. I was jealous. I was dying of want and want not and I didn't know why. Though some other Sharizhai seem to have a similar effect on me, it was so less compare to one of her look, one of her smile, one of her touch. I wanted to stay here forever. And the days were ticking off, one by one. 

I found the library. I had never read books before, only tracts. I never had the luxury to hold one in my hands. I asked for permission fearfully, certain that I would be denied. She didn't laugh at me. She looked thoughtful and acquiesced with a single nod.   
I spend hours and hours pouring at the texts. I learned the story of Terre d'Ange, something I had only bribes before. I learned about Blessed Elua and his Companion, among them, Kushiel the God that pricked my eye. I learned the intricate relationships between our country and its neighbours, what happens above the simple trade I had known all my life, the intricacies of weddings and babes that made my head swarm. I learned about the death of the Last Prince and the child heir, about the history of the great Houses. None interested me as much as the Sharizhai though I would pick the name of a guest whom she would appear to be found of and search til I found the right book, the right story.   
And there was poetry. Beautiful text and imagery. I found the book she had that day and discovered a Caerdicii translation of a d'Angeline poet. It was a funny mix of love and battle and Camille laughed uproariously as I was declaiming and miming one of the poem. He was rolling on his couch, tears at the corner of his eyes. We were so into our game we didn't notice Melisande til she took the book looking pensively at us.   
“Ah I should have remembered your interest,” she said looking at me. “Tis a dangerous book to have and to read.” We looked at her with dubious expression. She laughed and sat on the floor. She told us then a story about Prince, Princesses and a poet. Twas a story of love and jealousy and it ended poorly for the Prince died leaving to the Poet his infant daughter to cherish and protect in his stead. She ended with a somber mien. “Tis a hard thing to live with passion. His poetry is banned for he angered powerful people. This,” she tapped the book “is dangerous to have, dangerous to read and dangerous to know. “  
Camille looked at me with unease.   
I looked at the woman who not only owned a copy of book prohibited by the King but also dare to read it aloud, even in the secure part of her gardens. She smiled as she knew the thoughts swarming in my minds.  
“Do you play simpler games My lady ,” I asked, getting a pack cards out and playing with it as Hyacinthe had taught me. Twas a clever trick to do it one-armed, and I do say so with all the pride of my younger self.   
Her eye narrowed, noticing my choice of word, but she laughed at my daring and we played. She did play, and she won, and then taught us some other tricks.


	4. Choosing time

The days we had were shortening

We feared the end of this time for we were happy for the first time in our life and carefree. There was food and shelter, and learning more than we could have imagine, and caring adults. 

“What would you do, I wonder, if I offer you the means to be whatever you want ?” she asked us one day. 

With no surprise, Camille answered first. 

“If m'lady can, I would like to be introduced, and see if I can be fostered at Eglantine House. Tis said they cherish all art. I want my cooking to be art and… “ his voice trailed of “though I haven’t known her very well, my mother was born and raised in the Night Court and it feels right. Do you think they will have me ?” he asked hesitantly, with an apologetically glance at me. I look at him fiercely and he blinked back tears at the love and pride he saw in my eyes. 

Melisande smiled. “I’m sure something can be done, Camille”.  He looked at her and surprised her by answering seriously. “I will owe you my lady. And I will not forget”. She nodded, acknowledging the debt between them. 

That settled, she turned at me “And you, Phèdre ? What will you?” 

“I... the words didn't come”. Telling this gorgeous dangerous woman that I wanted only to be with her forever didn't seem to be the answer she was waiting for. I looked at my hand, almost healed, then I glance back at her and once again, she knew my unspoken thought and I blush. I thought, then, for a long time. Of her, of her games and of the sharp taste of danger surrounding her. 

“Knowledge, my lady.” I said, carefully. “about games and what they entailed. And players.

“You don't wish to serve Naamah ?” she asked 

“I don't know” I answered “tis in my blood for sure but… I’m.. “I choked and sobbed and the story of that day spilled out of my lips ."  _ The child is unfit to serve the Thirteen. “ _

Melisande touched my face, erasing my tears. “I told you, Phèdre, what you’re worth. Don’t you trust me ?” she asked. I felt fear then at her words and cried out “I can’t go there ! Please my lady, don’t make me go!”

“I wouldn’t force it upon you Phedre,” she answered calmy. “You’re a free d’Angeline. But the Night Court isn’t the only place where you can learn. You could have a private bound or even go to the Temple at sixteen and dedicate yourself freely if you choose to do so.” She paused, looking at me. “This is a sacred calling”. I gazed at her, frustrated by her words. 

“I want to serve  _ you _ , my lady”, I murmured, frightened that none of my skills mattered to her. 

We looked at each other then, for a long time. I was falling in the cold lake of her eyes even as she was looking at the speck of red in the dark pool of mine. “ _I want to serve_ _you_ _,"_ my lips had said, "I want you" my young heart had cried out and she had heard me. And that terribly intelligent woman knew everything it meant. She could see my youth in that brutal honesty. And despite the hard truths my life had taught me, I was still a child, and brave in a way only youth could be. She was humbled by it. And she could feel the hand of the Gods, pressing on us as the link between us was forged. 

She smile soberly. "And so you will, Phèdre No Sharizhai". 


	5. First bloom

The two years that followed where the most happiest of my childhood. Its wasn’t easy, to be an official ward of the Sharizhai, when you’re an  _ anguissette. _ But it was nothing to the fear and uncertainty I had known all my life. 

I was neither guest nor servant, but acknowledged ward of the family. I was fiercely protected by my mentor, who sheltered me from the other members of her family, with that mix of decisiveness, intelligence and humor that characterized her. 

I flourished under her care, and was driven to excel in all the tasks she gave me which wasn’t much. She liked to have us guessing her wants and wants not. 

And I say us because I soon shared many relationship with the Maignard clan. We share a similar position, of gratitude, service and loyalty to our lady. The clan was linked by blood and need, and the half -nephews and nieces of the lady were a brood of intelligent, deeply loyal kids, that took me in with the same unconscious grace that tinge everything Sharizhai. Though they didn’t have the name, they had the blood and it sparkles in them and call to me. Some share my inclination and it was easy to experiment. There was no secret, in a Kusheline home, of the many ways Kushiel could sharpened Namaah's games. 

And when play was over, work was there. Excellence in every tasks wasn’t possible of course. From my initial years, I was a fair hand at writing, had a very good knowledge of commerce, and accounting, languages and this love of poetry that half-bemused, half-amused her. I was horrible at any other activity becoming my new status. I could barely cook, I would made a mess at any needle work, couldn’t paint to save my life, had no interest in frippery though I tried. I could ride horses, enjoyed any physical activities outdoors, loved reading, and applied myself to the many different subjects I was supposed to master. It goes from history and geography to dancing, from the art of the table and service to politics and lineage, and so on. 

I was used to hard work, but not aimlessly. Pleasing someone who didn’t to give orders was quite annoying. 

I felt really gratified though, when she picked me to accompany her to Caerdicca Unitas. She said she wanted a break from the City and searched for enlightenment, but I could feel the deep curiosity that send her here. She was casting herself like a worm in the water. I didn’t know what fishes she expected to catch, but catching she did and in our return six months later, she had changed again, adding new layer of complexity on her already convoluted self. 

At our return, I rushed to the Night Court and managed to see Camille. He had had a spurt of growth and he glowed from the inside out with a joy that I had never seen before. It brought tears to my eyes, to see him so happy. 

“Phèdre” he cried out happily and we kissed, and talked, and I felt the glow in my heart, to see him so healthy in mind and body. 

Life was good. I had friends and family. I had Camille cared for and happy. We saw Arturo together once and he was quite happy at our good fortunes and bless his gods for it. I had freedom. I was permitted to see Hyas and he quickly made friends with my new gagle of Maignard sort-of brothers and sisters. We played and bickered and all. I was happy. 

When I reached thirteen, something changed. My body began flowering, and my skin tickling. I knew what it meant, of course, in an intellectual way; But nothing could prepare me to the heat that came upon me, when I was in my lady presence. I was liquefying. She was frowning. 

I could see her thinking and unease burned under my skin. Whatever was coming, I knew I wasn't going to like it. 

I was escaping a tedious lesson on geography, one I felt I didn’t need and had taken refuge in a stable, where I was helping the boys mucking when I heard them felt suddenly silent. By the prickle I felt, I knew who had just came in. But she wasn’t alone. I turned and saw a man I’ve never seen before. Russet and gold I thought. 

_ "Anafiel," Melisande said, pride and amusement in her voice. "This is Phedre." _

He looked at me with a sober curiosity and I return it the same. The poet, I remembered. He saw my eyes and gave a bark of laughter that startled me. “"Elua's Balls! " He exclaimed “An anguissette! A  _ true  _ anguissette!”. 

“You see my conundrum” Melisande said

“I would say, yes but”. he made a vague gesture… 

“Phèdre, go change yourself into something more presentable, and come join us for a tea in the garden”

“Yes, my lady” I bobbed my head, and left. A cold shadow was on me. 

When I join them, I knew that, whatever she had asked, she had gained. They both looked at me with a serious mien. I curtsied, served them the tea I had brought, then served myself, and sat, stiffly. I was sitting very straight, and Melisande sighed my name. “Phèdre”, I cringed and tried to keep the tears in but I could already feel my eyes tingling.

“My lady” I choked… Are you throwing me out?”

“Never” she replied “But this situation cannot keep on”. 

“I can, I will “ I try to explain and defend myself but she raised one hand and my words faltered.

“No Phèdre. It’s in both our natures and right now, it’s not healthy”. She took a breath. ”I have asked a boon of Anafiel Delaunay and he has agreed to grand it if you’re willing”. She gestured at him.” If you agree, he will continue your education till you came of age. He already has a ward who is close to your age. “

The tears were falling silently but I couldn’t argue the truth of her words. I would miss her horribly. I could already feel the pangs of loneliness beating in my blood. But I knew her will and couldn’t deny her wisdom. 

“Yes”, I choked, feeling as if my heart had been pulled out of me “I agree”. 


	6. Under a scholar's roof

And so it was that, for the following two years, as I was shedding the child I was to the woman I would become, I became a member of the house Delauney. I didn’t know what I expected, but after the sharp and willful ways of the Sharizhai, it wasn’t the small estate and household of Delauney’s. They were few servants, a guard named Guy that seemed beholden by something other than money and the ward, Alcuin. 

Alcuin was a delight. We were in mutual awe of each other and quickly became friends. It was obvious to me that we shared a common dilemma with our mutual guardian but not to him. He had been reared and sheltered here since he was six. He was beautiful and innocent and remind me of an earlier Camille, with all his brilliance and seriousness. He also had no clue who his patron was. It amused me but I didn’t share. I had been reared by a merchant after all and polished by Melisande. To spoil an advantage for nothing ? That would have been very strange indeed. I wonder if I would have been a dreadful liar in another life, hadn’t I had been taught early one by greedy customers and my dreadful parents how to hide my thoughts from my face and to let falsehoods out of my lips as easily as breathing. But it seems I was quite good at it and except for my Lady, who seemed to know me better than I did myself, no one knew what I didn’t share first. I don’t think Delauney knew that I knew who he had been, who he could have been had events of his life been different. The knowledge was there, but left unused. 

I was a temporary ward and because I didn’t like being in debt anymore to anyone, I had negotiated for a 18-months of service to repay Delauney his largess. It had made my Lady laugh and Delauney had looked at me curiously at that negociation but agreed. I would serve him after from my sixteen to the mid of my seventeen-year as best as I could. My loyalty for that duration would be to him and him only.

Life under his care was learning, tumbling, thinking and so on. I learn one new langage eagerly, amused by the novelty of speaking Cruithne. And though Melisande had taught me the art of covercy, she hadn’t the same ease at it as Anafiel Delauney did and it seems it was part of their bargain that I became as fluent as I could in that silent language. Like any other mean of speaking, I was very good at it. 

When I reached fourteen, Delauney asked me if I wanted to learn about Naamah’s ways. My skin prickled and I flush, deep blue eyes flashing in my mind and an echoing laughter ringing in my ears. I thought and realized I didn’t want to be another notch in my lady’s list of conquests. I wanted to matter to her as she did to me. I thought and knew I would do it.

And so we were also taught Naamah’s ways. Alcuin seems to be destined to be dedicated to Naamah, something that left me bemused. I… I didn’t know. I knew that that choice Melisande left to me. And I had learned from Delauney that all knowledge is worth having. So, when the time came, I would make that choice already enlightened. I didn’t expected it to be only theory though -hugh, but I had promised to abide the rules of my new warden, even senseless one. 

Truth to be told, I was so damn curious and Cecily, our mistress of art, took a shine on both of us, though she was quite worried at the games played by our beholders. I could feel she didn’t trust Melisande as far as she could through her and she had reservation about me because of this. It only made me respect her even more. I was beholden to the Pearl of House Sharizhai and I was as much under her spell as anyone in her vicinity. But I wasn’t blind to her ambitions and the stakes of the game she played where clear to me long before she began to be seen in Prince Beaudoin’s company. 


	7. ~ Sending her away ~

Sending her away had been the only logical choice and I had followed it of course. I was patient and able to plan long term. It hasn’t always be so but I had decided to master that virtue when I saw the weaknesses in my father’s character. _His_ failure was born from haste. The bastard had been brilliant but impetuous and rash, following his desires without forethought. I had decided early on I would not follow that path. 

So I had learned to take a step back, to look and to think carefully before I acted. I had worked myself as an artist does his painting, with loving care and small touches, pushing myself into who I wanted to be.

And I had succeeded. I had taught myself how to get what I wanted from people, be it resources, debts, knowledge, or skills, even skills I had not known to look for. 

I thought I knew who I was and who I would be. 

Patience meant three rules. Careful planning, insight, and always keeping getaways opened for contingencies where the key to my successes. 

Sending her away had been logical. But logic had nothing to do with the pull between us. 

In her absence, I realized I knew nothing.

Unwanted thoughts kept creeping back in my head. Beats of my heart felt wrong, too strong, too erratic and hollow. I would turn my head toward where she should be before remembering _she_ was here no longer at my side. _I_ had send her away. I had told her willingly to go and she had followed my will unwillingly. 

I had known the truth as soon as I had understand what she was. Being who we both are, that trouble was coming up between us one day or another and still, I had let it run for too long, for the cheer pleasure of her. 

She was a delight. Beautiful without knowing it; graceful and made more so because her grace had not been nurtured from childhood by the Night Court, and it shone true, unpolished but raw; she may have been an emaciated mess when we met but food and my household care had turn her into the hyperactive child she should have always been, refining the too bright angles of her body to smoothness without losing her muscles. 

And inside that small stature, oh, inside, she was so much more. 

A well of potential barely taped, she had only waited for one opportunity to blossom and she had seized it with both hands. Such a bright, thirsty mind. She had took to learning as a fish does to the sea.

I sighed. Again, she was there in my mind when I should be working on completely different matters. But she was so much…. layers on layers. A bottomless pit of will and a capacity to give that matched it. Recklessness and caring. Fiercely loyal. Thirsting for pain, the gift of Kushiel, while raising herself to protect the child in her care.

She had known horrors but still had a sweet touch of innocence in her. 

And she didn’t let the fear of her feelings control her. She confronted them head-on, as she tackled everything. She used to confront _me_ head on. I smiled. I missed it. 

She was a gift from the god and I had to send her away. My _anguissette_. She was fifteen today. 

This was not sexual desire. I cherished Namaah's gift and Kushiel's even more but it wasn't that. Kushiel's may prick both of us in different ways, like two sides of one coin but no. That I could manage well enough. 

It wasn't the almost parental pride I felt towards my others wards, at their progress and achievement.

It wasn't the amused affection in which I held family or close friends. 

It wasn't the prickly regard I felt toward some acquaintances that could held their own, like Anafiel Delauney. 

It wasn't anything I had ever felt in my quarter of century of life and it was maddening. It made me feel young then and uncontrolled and unwise. 

_Love as you wilt_ , the precept came upon me, a far away whisper in my head. 

Is this love ? Is this love, this madness? I rose, annoyed, and called for my coach. 

“Where to Milady?,” asked my servant. 

“Valerian house,” I said too sharply and he hurried away, leaving me to my unusual dark mood. Watered wine would do for now, I thought. I needed to fill this void. It would work. It was only temporary. My wits would be back. It had to. Because It wouldn't be tomorrow nor the day after that I could have her at my side again. And when, if, she came back... it would never be like before. It would be different. Was it fate or doom that would joined us ? I sighed again, annoyed anew at my own moroseness and let the thought die away.

Namaah's worshiping sharpened by Kushiel's edge awaited me. This would work to change my mind. It would pass. 

I am patient, after all, aren't I ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally realized this story needed two voices to go on
> 
> Please comment ? I really need feedback to make this story better


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